


Bad Day

by SABATHco



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Masturbation, Medical Condition, Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:31:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6193498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SABATHco/pseuds/SABATHco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it's like on a bad day for Kaaras when his PSAS kicks in. Angst, suffering, Solo, masturbation</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Day

Bad Day  
  
 **Characters: Kaaras Adaar  
Inquisition  
Warning:  nudity, masturbation, suffering **  
  
   One time in the morning was to be expected. The Inquisitor had woken up, not surprised that he had morning wood. It was simple to take care of, especially when there was no one sharing his bed this morning. The Bull was off on a mission with his boys. As lonely as it made the Vashoth, it was also a little nice to have the privacy to deal with himself alone. Not to say he didn’t enjoy when Bull took care of him—he did! Oh boy, he did. But every now and again, it was nice to just run his own palm up his arousal.   
   So he did. Moving to his stomach, his hand took the length and palmed it. Soon, the Herald of Andraste was a panting mess, moaning into his pillow just in case anyone was standing down the stairs and outside the door. He bit into it, a long, hard groan being muffled as he felt the morning release spill against the sheets beneath him. That was just the first of many more.   
   It had been between breakfast and lunch when he needed to go again. In the War Room, the arousal had been pressing against the inside of his pants with force. A second time? Not surprising. Kaaras expected it, really. His body was needy, and he was used to it. Sometimes he could ignore it, especially if it wasn’t that bad. He had time after the meeting to return to his quarters for ‘morning tea’ which consisted of him sitting at his desk and putting his hand down his pants.   
   Another, another and another, and more. By the time it was evening, Kaaras was frustrated, bothered and angry at himself and his body. He’d accidentally snapped at Leliana because he was getting tired of having to fuck himself in secrecy. If Bull was here, it wouldn’t be so bad. The man had a way of really getting those pressure points and making his prick tired—in a good way. He didn’t know if it was because his body was used to the affections of another, or because his condition was just being an outright bitch today. The latter was probably the cause. Some days were worse than others.   
   Admittedly, it seemed to have been weeks since he’d had it this bad. Maybe he didn’t realise because he’d been so busy... He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that right now, he was in pain, and once more, his prick was prodding at the insides of his pants.   
   Of course, it came at an inopportune time. He had a late meeting to go to, and he really didn't have much time to waste for a quickie. He definitely couldn't return all the way to his quarters and then stay there, only to have to return all the way back down those long stairs again. He'd have to find somewhere where he could do it in private. In the large fortress, it wasn't too hard to find a place where he could whip it out.   
   Inside his pants, his arousal was raging. Hot and ready. It didn't help that he'd already had to touch himself so much that the constant friction of having to masturbate was starting to get a little raw. He huffed, making his way towards the War Room. Maybe he could just ignore it. The meeting wasn't going to be overly long, just long enough to be an inconvenience. Perhaps he could just hide it. Ah, probably not a good idea, or one worth believing in anyway. With it being so bad, he should probably just get rid of it.  
   Running a hand down his face, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think of something that would make the arousal go away. Generally, when he had to be in public, or somewhere where he _really_ didn't wish to be caught with a hard on in his pants, he'd think of morbid things. It didn't put him in a good mind set, in fact, it put him in a very bad place, but it was better than risking someone finding out about his problem, and then calling him a pervert. Qunari and a mage, the people out there would love adding pervert to the list.   
   He hated it. He really did. How could something bring him so much pleasure, and then pain and suffering at the same time? It wasn't that he hated that particular part of his body, it brought him great pleasure, but the relationship was a complicated one. He just wished that he didn't have to suffer this annoying condition.   
   Other people truly didn’t understand how good they had it, to have a healthy body, a healthy member that didn’t stand at attention at the fucking movement of their pants against it. It’s why he wore tighter pants. It constricted his movement. And having loose pants made his arousal look even more obvious if it could freely move around. One day, he’d like to have some kind of instrument that could just tie it back. Perhaps he could wear a garter to his thigh and strap it down... Yes... because being found like that would really help explain things. Not.    
   In the worst of times, his thoughts would turn to the one thing that put him in the worst place of all, and that was the death of his father. It was horrible to use such a memory for something like this. But it's all he could think of that actually helped. Just made for a moody Inquisitor when it came to other people. Unfortunately, sometimes he had to be selfish. So long as no one was getting seriously hurt by his mood swings, then they and he would get over it.   
   He slowed his pace, putting his hand onto the rail. He could go down the rest of the stairs towards the War Room... or he could use an empty room. His fingers gripped the bar, and he looked around. There were guards and men walking the hallways, and he seemed to catch the attention of every single one of them—or his paranoid mind was telling him. With Leliana and her spies, he couldn’t put it past him.  
   Fuck... Maybe if he thought hard enough, it would go back down. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. He could conjure a cooling spell, but his concentration was so weak right now. His crotch already was on fire, which was only making him more frustrated. It hurt. He could feel it when he walked, rubbing up against the fabric of his underwear. It was honestly bliss when he stopped, but that wasn’t going to get rid of the problem. It was still there, pulsating needily against the flesh of his inner thigh.  
   Moving backwards, he pressed his hand against the wall, tracing it as he followed it, making sure no one was watching him. He didn’t exactly make it look casual, but he had to be careful. Someone walking in on him with his pants down was not going to go well... Especially in his political position. People were dying to get their hands on a scandal with him. He didn’t care too much about the rumours, what mattered was the truth, but considering this _was_ the truth. It was really something he preferred the whole bloody world not knowing.  
   Slipping into one of the dark corridors, he finally turned and started heading towards one of the abandoned hallways that no one ever walked down. Or, at least wasn’t used often. Every now and again, one of the guards would come down here to make sure no one was hiding or spying or what-have-you. Either way, a moment to himself was desperately needed now.  
   Kaaras bit his lip, pressing his back next to the open archway. Fuck...! He looked down, biting his glove off at the fingertips and dropping it onto the floor. He undid his pants, tugging his tunic out a little, and his undershirt being untucked from his pants as he pushed them down. They still clung to his thighs, it was just enough to get his hand down beneath the fabric and grab at his burning flesh.  
   “Ah-hh...” he breathed, his neck leaning back. Maker, it was getting sensitive, and this time not from the condition itself, but because he had rubbed it too many times. At least the skin on skin was nicer than his glove. He’d use a spell on his fingers, but his focus was no way near appropriate to be handling such a sensitive part of his body. He had no desire to get himself stuck in a position where he needed to go to a healer. Once or twice in his life was enough to keep him humiliated for life.  
   A soft exhale left him, his eyes closing as he pulled the length out and freed it, the cool breeze somewhat soothing. But it wouldn’t last long. He groaned, hips moving inwards so his hard length could press into his palm, drawing back out, his hand moving back and forth. Oh, fuck, it felt so good, but it was starting to get that little bit too touchy and there was a subtle pain to it.  
   The pre-ejaculate helped, but it was still sticky and warm rather than cool. He winced as he felt the rings on his fingers brush up against the skin. It was much too painful to have those on. He quickly withdrew his hand and slipped the jewellery off his fingers, putting them down onto the ground with his glove.   
   When he was done with that, he leant back against the wall, taking his prick once more. “Ahh, fuck, please hurry up,” he murmured to himself, moving his hand faster. He pulled the foreskin back, thumbing the head of his throbbing cock, head leaning down once more to watch himself. It was hard to stifle the moans, but he didn’t wish for his voice to echo. Maker, if anyone found him like this...   
   Hips bucked, and he could feel a light sweat crawling against his skin. “Nn... oh, Maker, come on,” he whispered, swallowing hard. His ears pricked up when he heard footsteps, and he instantly slapped his hand over his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose. He also shoved his prick back into his pants, but his hand was still holding it, ever-so-slowly rubbing and squeezing the thickened appendage. Oh, fuck, it was one of the guards.   
   Keeping still, his heart beat was throbbing in his ears, sweat trickling down his neck now. Maker, what if they came in here? What was he going to do? He swallowed heavily, hearing it go all the way down his oesophagus. The footsteps came closer, echoing, and he pressed himself as far back against the wall as he could. Please, make them just pass and not look. What were the fucking odds of it happening now!?   
   He wanted to slap himself. And he realised he was gripping his arousal hard, painfully, cutting off the circulation almost to the point where his head was a deep shade of purple, wanting release but also because it was painful.   
   Stopping all movement, the guard was talking to another who was accompanying him. When their voices hit just outside, he closed his eyes, breath shaken. Thankfully, they kept walking, and he exhaled the breath he’d been holding which felt like hours when their voices dwindled, his lungs filling back up with oxygen. That sent a surge of bliss all down his body, and he felt his stomach hitch.   
   “Shit,” he whispered, moving his backside off the wall and reaching to his pocket. He grabbed out the handkerchief and shoved it over his head just in time, the load spilling out. “Nn! Ah...!” he groaned, his stomach tightening as his muscles tensed and convulsed. He caught it all just in time, and he felt his body relax, his back slipping down the wall and into a crouch.  
   Panting softly, he looked down at the now damp cloth, frowning. He wished this was the final time today that he would have to use this, but he knew it wouldn’t be. Instead, he had to walk around with a disgusting, recycled piece of cloth that smelled of dry come in his pocket. Fuck, he was thankful for the fact that he wore cologne, strong enough to overpower that scent anyway.  
   He gave it a moment so sink into the fabric before he folded it back up and put it in his pocket once more. He also made sure to wipe himself down, his heart still beating hard from the risk he’d just taken. It wasn’t the first time, and he doubted it would be the last in his life. He had many years left of hiding in corridors and odd places to try and let off some steam. He just wished Bull was here to help him, or at least put some ice on his very tender, softening prick.   
   Shoving everything back where it belonged and tucking his dress shirt in once more, he did his pants up, grabbed his rings, put them on and then covered his hand with his glove once more. He then stood, brushed himself down and rolled his shoulders, running his hand through his now damp and sweat-covered hair. Hopefully he wasn’t late.  
  
*****  
   Of course, the moment the Inquisitor had settled himself down in the War Room, Josephine had asked if he was alright, seeming flustered or like he had a temperature. He wasn’t about to inform the woman that the sweat that covered him was from masturbating in a corridor where he could have been caught. He just said he’d had a rough day—which was obvious considering he was still being rather blunt in his conversations, not to mention when he had snapped at Leliana.   
   Fortunately, the meeting didn’t last as long as he thought it would. Having already eaten dinner before, he headed straight for his quarters, more than ready to end this day. He just wanted to crawl under his pelts and sleep, letting his poor body rest for a good few hours.   
   “Inquisitor,” the guard outside of his quarters nodded, and he nodded back. He didn’t stick around for conversations, not today.  He knew people were on edge around him when he was like this. Just like any boss, when the leader was in a bad mood, it spread like wildfire. It was fine with him. He didn’t wish to be feared, but it was better for everyone if they didn’t approach him in a mood like he had been in all day. His frustration level was simply too high. He didn’t even trust himself to judge any of the prisoners all day. They could wait another day until he was coherent enough and just, instead of his mind being flustered and all over the place so much that he couldn’t even think straight.   
   Making his way up the stairs, he took them by twos, making sure the door was locked before he’d headed up there. As soon as he made it, he started unravelling his belt, tossing it onto the trunk at the end of his bed. He then took his gloves off, adding them there before he started unbuttoning his tunic, laying it down. Rolling the sleeves of his undershirt, he walked over to the bowl of water that was on his desk, dipping his hands into it before he leant down, cupping the water and splashing it against his warm skin. He was still sore, he was still frustrated, and he was still flustered. He ran it through his blonde hair, it curling down from its usually stiff position and he plonked himself onto the edge of his bed, unbuckling his boots.  
   A soft meow was heard as Ginger made his way over to him, rubbing up against his leg and purring. “Good evening,” he smiled, picking the cat up with ease and giving him a kiss on the nose. Ginger meowed in easy defeat to the affection, a paw papping him on the mouth.   
   “Think you’re going to get away with it that easily, hm?” Kaaras chuckled, kicking his boots off as he lay down on his bed, legs hanging off the edge and putting Ginger on his belly. The cat played with his button, slapping it with his paw as Kaaras ran his fingers through the orange and white fur.  
   Softly, he sighed. Today had been rough, and he hated what tomorrow would be like. He was already exhausted. Having orgasm after orgasm was tiring, and the work he had to put into it. It wasn’t just simply laying in bed all day and playing with himself joyfully. It was between work, between breaks, the paranoia of getting caught, the worry of being found out. It only took the wrong way to move and he’d have an erection, and it only took a second glance from someone else to realise that he had it. Thankfully, his tunic was usually long enough to cover his crotch, but not all the time.    
   “I suppose you want dinner, which is why you’re being so affectionate?” he asked the cat, leaning his head up to look over his chest. Ginger was still pawing at his button, and he tsked, sitting up. “Come on, stop it. You’re going to ruin my shirt,” he muttered, pushing the cat off him. Ginger meowed again and stood up on the bed, watching him as he started to unbutton his shirt, rolling his sleeves back down. The cat obviously saw it as a toy to play with, and pawed at it again.  
   Kaaras’ temper was already on edge, and he tugged the shirt away. “Ginger, I said no.” The cat rolled onto his back and grabbed at his arm, the tiny but sharp claws scratching him. Kaaras had thick skin, and didn’t even feel it, but that didn’t mean the cuts weren’t there. Tiny and now open. He growled, which had Ginger back on his toes, back arched.  
   “What? Don’t get pissed off at me growling, I said stop it and now look what you’ve done.” He pointed to the claw marks on his arm, which were now crimson in colour. “Little bastard.” He slapped the bed, which had Ginger jumping off and running under the dresser, eyes watching him. Kaaras felt his ears prick back, his temper nearing breaking point. This was in no way the cat’s fault, though. How dare he get snappy with Ginger when he was just doing what cats did? Now he felt awful. Like he needed guilt on top of everything else right now.  
   Throwing the shirt onto the floor, he stood back up, bare foot and shirtless now. “Come on, come here.” He crouched down near the dresser and offered his hand to the cat. The scratches were nothing, they didn’t even hurt. If Kaaras wasn’t already in a bad mood, perhaps it wouldn’t have happened.  
   “Come on, Ginger, Daddy’s sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off at you.” The cat came out slowly, and he was able to scoop him up, standing and snuggling the ball of orange fur against his chest. “I’ve had a bad day, but that hardly means it’s your fault, or I should take it out on you.” He leant down and gave the cat another kiss, which earned him, once more, a paw to the mouth, making him chuckle.   
   Giving Ginger his full attention to pay him back for getting snappy with him for a moment, he finally put him down after a couple of snuggle-filled minutes, getting him some meat and putting it into his bowl. “Enjoy, sweetie,” he said, running a hand down his arching back as Ginger was fully concentrated on eating what was offered.  
   Kaaras turned back to his bed, waving his hand to make the fireplace light up. He then concentrated on the torches, dispelling the fire so the room was only lit up by the now crackling fire. The sound was soothing, and he removed his pants, letting them join with his shirt. He really needed a bath, but he was simply too tired to do that now. In the morning, he would be more energised and he would make sure to get a tub up here so he could scrub himself free of today’s filth.   
   Crawling his way under the sheets, he rested in the large bed, closing his eyes. The sound of Ginger eating his dinner could be heard just over the fire, but it didn’t annoy him. What annoyed him was the sudden surge he felt starting to swell in the bottom of his stomach. His eyes continued to stay closed, but he could feel his face starting to scrunch up in frustration.  
   “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” he muttered to himself, eyes opening as he looked at the ceiling. His body was raw, he needed to literally cool his prick off in a tub of water, let alone even _thinking_ about touching it. No! He wasn’t going to. He could sleep, and if it decided to go off during his sleep, then so be it. It was better than having to cause himself even more pain from rubbing it even more raw than it already was.   
   He vented a frustrated sigh, putting his hands onto his face and forehead, grabbing a horn out of frustration and literally picking it up and slamming it into the pillow. He was not going to go through this again. He couldn’t! Maker, it was a miracle that he even _had_ a dick to play with! With the amount he had to masturbate, how was it possible that it simply hadn’t eroded away?   
   Ginger looked up from his bowl and jumped up onto the bed, rubbing against his qunari’s shoulder. It didn’t help Kaaras. Although he appreciated the concern, it was not going to stop what he needed to do.   
   Moving to his stomach, he shoved his face into his pillow, hoping that laying on it would make it go away. The fabric to his underwear hurt, though, it was rough against his tender skin. He had to lift his backside up and push them down, wriggling them off down his thighs and then having to kick them off somewhere in the bed. The cooler freedom was much nicer, but it didn’t stop his excitement from growing.   
   “Ginger, get off the bed,” he muffled through the pillow before leaning his head out, laying on his arms. The cat’s tail ran up against his arm, sending prickles all down his body. “Ginger! Get. Down.” His voice was not overly loud, simply dominate enough to startle the animal off the bed. He didn’t mind the cat being there at all, he enjoyed cuddling up to him when he could, but today? Was not a good day.   
   His fingers clawed at the sheets, gripping at it and scraping. If he didn’t bite his nails all the time, and had claws like other qunari, he’d have torn the sheets with how much he was scraping at them.   
    _‘It’s fine, I’m fine, it’s going to go away. I won’t need to do it... just... breathe and... I’ll be fine,’_ he told himself, huffing into his arms once more, his head buried in them. He tried to breathe calmly, but every breath that left him, he could feel his arousal pressing into the mattress, getting harder, getting stronger and more persistent. Hurting more and more.  
    _’Blood, guts, death... think of anything! Think how your father would look at you, knowing you were sick enough to touch yourself after knowing how you killed him. Your hands! You killed him, you did it. I did it... I...’_  
   “Why did it have to be me?” he whined into the pillow, his body shaking with rage. Tonight, not even his last line of defence was working. Fine... one... more... time. He seethed at himself, punching the mattress beside him, a loud thud echoing through the room. His shoulders tensed and he moved his hand down underneath himself, gripping the tender flesh.  
   “Ahh... fuck, that hurts,” he groaned, tugging on it. The sooner it was over, the better. “Mm... come on, just come on.” He bit his lip, leaning his forehead down onto his spare forearm. Andraste, it burned. His jaw tightened, groaning at the pain as he ran his hand up his length, cupping the whole genital region. His smaller sack was fine, just very shrunken from the constant release. Just a little more and he could go to sleep in peace and start a new day tomorrow.  
   The best thing right now, was that no one was here to hear him. His frustration was too high to even concentrate on being quiet if there were someone in hearing distance. He groaned, moaned, begged for himself to come already, his member red in agony.   
   His panting became pain filled breaths, sobbing almost. With the sheet falling down beneath his thighs, the cool air was a somewhat relief to his burning lust, but no way near enough. He just wanted it to end already! It felt like it was going forever, even for someone like him, which he knew it wasn’t, it was just agonising, so of course it felt like forever.  
   As his hand moved back and forth, he whined, feeling like every rub was peeling skin off his body. “Uh... Maker, _please!_ ” He could feel his muscles tensing, his arm muscles sore from all of the moving he’d done today with it. His stomach was even sore. What had it been? Twelve? Maybe more? He just wanted it to be over!   
   “Please come, please!” he cried into his arm, biting down onto it as if it would help. He left a trail of saliva when his lips left the pale grey flesh, his eyes glazed now from the pain, from the stress. He was so close! But it felt like hours away with every stroke, especially considering he did not take his rings off this time, when he should have. He had been too meddled to think straight about it, and it was too late now. If he took his hand off himself, it would only prolong it. He wanted it done now!  
   “Ah... ahh! _AH!_ ” he cried, face contorting in a mix of pleasure and pain as he felt the tiny amount of ejaculate spurt out of his trembling member. He panted, his hand leaving his body to smack down onto the pillow beside him, sobbing into his arm. His whole body shook and burned, in between his legs raw and throbbing. He could go to a healer, but he couldn’t face the embarrassment. This was _his_ body, this was _his_ problem. He never wanted people to know. Having Bull know was one thing, he was his lover, he trusted him and he could take care of his every need. But anyone else? Who to trust that would keep their mouth shut about the Inquisitor who came to the infirmary with a red, raw prick from over stimulation and masturbation?   
   Leaning his body back down, he leant up onto his elbows, hands over his face as he gathered himself. It was just one day... It had been a while, and hopefully tomorrow wasn’t as bad. He could handle his condition on easy days, but today had been a hard one since a long time.  
   Groaning, he fell completely limp. He didn’t even have the energy to roll over to let his hot body breathe. He didn’t even have the will. He simply shut his eyes and welcomed passing out, so he didn’t have to suffer his body’s needs any more to the day. The darkness was welcomed.


End file.
